


Dizziness is not Contagious

by Lazchan



Series: Team Russia Family [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 01:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10753428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuuri is determined to skate; however a cold makes it a bit difficult to stay upright.





	Dizziness is not Contagious

Yuuri wrapped the scarf tighter around his face as he made his way to the rink. He felt more sluggish than before; but if he stayed at home, he’d never get the practice done that he needed.  _ I can’t slack off if I want to win gold this year-- _ There were still a number of competitions left in the season and he was determined to do better than he ever had before.

_ Plus, if I take a day off for a cold, Yuri will never let me live it down, _ he thought ruefully. He had managed to avoid Yuri more often than not, but with the rink times being moved around and Viktor out of town for something to do with sponsors, Yuuri didn’t have much choice but to skate with the rest of the Russian team. He wasn’t looking forward to facing the others, but it wasn’t as if it was the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, but…

“It’s not like you’re even really sick,” he muttered to himself, stepping into the chilled air of the rink, only slightly warmer than the outdoors. He just was… tired and maybe his throat hurt a little, but he had gulped down his overly hot tea that morning, because he was running late. “You’ve skated before when you were sneezing, when you had a twisted ankle…” More bruises and sprains than one could really count, but those were part of being a figure skater. 

Everyone else was already out on the ice and Yuuri winced a little at how late he had to be; his hands trembled as he quickly dressed in his practice clothes and he had to take a deep breath as he laced up his skates. It was all second nature; easy as breathing.  _ Even if breathing doesn’t seem to be all that easy right now.  _ Now was not the time to get a panic attack or cry or do anything that showed he wasn’t capable of not being able to skate on his own, among… not quite-strangers, but not quite-rinkmates, either. 

His head felt like it was filled with cotton when he finally moved out onto the ice, pausing in front of Yakov. He had become a sort of unofficial coach in the past few weeks, berating him as easily as he did his other skaters. 

Yakov frowned down at him, arms crossed over his chest and the silence seemed to stretch on for far longer than it should, before Yakov finally sighed. “No jumps until I say,” he said firmly. “You would be the type to try some crazy combination when my back is turned and I do not want to explain to Vitya why he came back to you all bruised.”

“None at all?” Yuuri asked in shock. He had expected no quads and frankly, he wasn't certain if he  _ could  _ do a quad at the moment, but to be taken off of all jumps felt like a punishment. He needed to work on his TES and that meant his jumps. 

Yakov’s expression was a little too assessing as he looked Yuuri over. “I would kick you off the ice all together if I didn't think you would sneak off to another rink behind my back. You think I cannot tell when you are sick?”

“Sick?” Yuuri looked at him and shook his head in confusion. “Maybe a little tired, but I'm not sick,” he insisted. “I can do jumps and skate still.” 

Yakov looked completely disbelieving. “I'm going to have Yura watch out for you to make sure you don't knock yourself silly on the ice. Be happy I do not bench you for the entirety of your day and have you study my skaters.”

Yuuri blanched. “Don't do that to Yuri,” he said quickly, eyeing the younger skater who was giving him a baleful look. “He won't want time away from his practice. I'll be fine! I'm not sick.”  _ I want Yuri to actually like me-- or at least not plan to kick me for once.  _ Having Yuri have to stop practicing because Yakov thought he was sick…

“Are you trying to tell me how I should order my skaters?” Yakov demanded and Yuuri winced. He wanted to think of a compelling argument, but other than “he doesn’t like me”, he couldn’t think of anything solid. He wasn’t even sure  _ Yakov _ liked him and this was all some elaborate plot to keep him behind when he wanted to improve his weaker points in skating. 

“No,” Yuuri huffed and wanted to say  _ I’m not one of your skaters _ but he refrained; he did enjoy the advice Yakov gave and it was amused to see the echoes of coaching in Viktor. It was so easy to see the model his coach used; it was understandable, since Yakov was the only coach Viktor ever had. “I just think you should coach him and keep him away from me.”

Yuri had skated close enough at that point and his eyes went wide as Yakov’s face started turning a dark red color. He grabbed Yuuri’s arm and yanked him away. “I’ll watch the idiot, Yakov,” he said quickly. “If he trips over his skates, though, I’m not dragging his ass off the ice.”

“Try to keep him from tripping in the first place, Yura,” Yakov grumbled. “I swear, how Vitya lets you get away with such things--he may be a good friend, but as a coach…”

Yuri snorted. “It’s  _ Viktor _ ,” he said slowly, as if Yakov had suddenly forgotten all the frustrations over the past twenty years. He glared at Yuuri, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t die,” he muttered. “Come on, katsudon.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri insisted, pulling away, seeing the judgement on Yuri’s face already. He could feel the despair pulling him down and he couldn’t let  _ Yuri _ see. He’d never hear the end of it and he wanted to start off this new rink and year with a little more hope than last year. Not having Yuri Plisetsky trying to strangle him because his anxiety threatened to drown him was a good start. 

“Are you actually sick or is because Viktor isn’t here?” Yuri ignored him and peered closer at him, both of them doing lazy figures. Yuri was intent on him and Yuuri wanted to push him away for his fussing. He was an adult, he knew his own limits and--  _ wow, I think I’m spinning more than I need to be… _ He wanted to grab the excuse that it  _ was _ because of Viktor. Yuri would certainly leave him alone if he admitted that; it would also set back any sort of progress he made with Yuri even remotely respecting him. 

“VIktor’s going to be here later today,” Yuuri said instead, rolling his eyes. He had skated plenty of times without Viktor since that competition. “I think I can manage to do a regular routine without breaking down.”

“Then you’re sick,” Yuri stated flatly, eyes narrowed at him and if there was any concern in the gaze, Yuuri was looking away and skating as fast as he felt was safe to avoid the question, but Yuri was faster and kept up pace with him easily. “You ever hear of resting?”

“If I was sick, I would,” Yuuri said stubbornly. They didn’t know, they didn’t  _ understand _ . “And don’t try and tell me that you wouldn’t skate if you had a cold or was feeling a little under the weather.” As Yuri’s suspicious look, Yuuri hastened to finish. “Not that I’m any of those things.”

“No, because I’m not a dumbass,” Yuri pushed his hair back and put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, flicking his gaze around for a moment to make sure that no one was close enough to see him actually sound concerned over Yuri. “You’re skating on a cold surface, moron-- if you have a cold, it can turn nasty.” He looked uncomfortable for a moment and then sighed. “Are you even listening to me?”

Yuuri nodded and then shook his head, frowning. “Viktor’s going to be here soon,” he said and was confused at the concern that was actually evident on Yuri’s face this time. 

“... when the old man gets here, he better put you straight to bed,” Yuri snorted, “since you obviously don’t have the sense to stay there yourself.”

Mila chose that moment to skate by and she covered her mouth with a mock-shocked expression. “Yura, what a bold statement!” She laughed. “I didn’t know you were so supportive of them.”

Yuri’s face turned red and he abandoned Yuuri to chase after Mila, who was cackling as she dashed across the ice. 

Yuuri was left alone, even Yakov turning to yell at them. Yuuri pushed all of his attention to his skating, keeping away from jumps, but it really couldn’t hurt to do crossovers and spins. Those were simple things-- basic and….  _ Am I already spinning? I don’t remember starting to spin… _ He was ready to concede he might be a little sick when he hit the ice.

~

“I told you to watch him!” Yakov was helping support Yuuri, Mila and Georgi having helped carry him off the ice. “He’s passed out on the ice, he’s burning up--” Yakov shook his head, while Yuri blushed. “When is Vitya getting here?”

“Idiot got off on the wrong stop at the station and is getting here when he can,” Yuri snorted. He pressed a cold cloth to Yuuri’s head. “Why did you even let katsudon on the rink?” he demanded. “He looked convincing, but you knew the stubborn moron was sick.”

“Not sick,” Yuuri spoke up, “I just… maybe a little tired. Sometimes my anxiety makes me heavy. The spinning’s new…” he leaned against Yuri who froze his knee-jerk reaction to pull away. “Sometimes depression feels like being sick...did you know that?” he tilted his head up to look at Yuri. “But you’ve seen that, Yuri...at least I’m not crying this time.”

Yuri pressed a quick hand to Yuuri’s forehead and then pulled it away. “You should have stayed home,” he said, looking annoyed. “What did you think would happen if you stayed home, moron?”

“You’d make fun of me,” Yuuri whispered and kept his gaze on Yuri’s. “I know you’ll make fun of me anyway, but I didn’t want you to make fun of me because I felt a little tired. I’ve skated with sprains...with a cold...before. I want to be someone that can be your friend…at least someone on your level.” He closed his eyes and Yuri stared at him, completely stunned and aware of all eyes on him. 

“ _ Idiot _ ,” Yuri kept his voice as scathing as possible. “If you’re sick or dizzy, you can’t skate worth shit and you’ll knock yourself out like you  _ just did _ . Who gives a shit about my opinion if you’re sick, huh?” he demanded. “Why do you care so much at all?” His voice went from pissed to confused. He wasn’t that type of person, was he?

“Because ….” Yuuri’s voice trailed off and he looked confused when he opened his eyes again. “Why aren’t we skating?” he asked, looking around. “Isn’t Viktor going to be here soon? He said he had some new ideas for my program.”

Yuri smacked a hand to his face. “Oh my god,” he muttered. “You’re really fucking weird when you’re sick, aren’t you? And still babbling about ice skating and Viktor. Don’t you have any other hobbies?”

“I like poodles,” Yuuri said unexpectedly. “I had a poodle when I was a kid.” 

“That’s not a hobby,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Why am I even talking to you? You’re completely out of it.” He looked down at his phone again, tapping out a quick message to Viktor to come and grab the idiot before he tried skating again when their backs were turned. Yuuri’s stubbornness combined with him being sick made him worse than a toddler when it came to changing his mind. 

Mila was smirking next to him as she helped Yuuri sit up and handed him some pills and a glass of water. “That’s because you actually  _ care _ , Yura,” she teased. 

“I-- I don’t--” he scowled and still helped Yuuri drink down the medicine and eyed him. He hoped it would at least bring down his fever and make him a little more aware of what was going around him, like realizing that he was leaning against the person who was  _ supposed _ to be his rival.

Yakov was shaking his head. “Even Vitya was not so stubborn,” he huffed. “And here I thought that Yuuri would be easier to handle; he always was easier to direct with orders.”

“Have you seen the way he sasses Viktor?” Yuri eyed Yuuri, who was sitting up and looking a little more aware, but his gaze was also focused directly on the ice, so it was anyone’s guess as to what he was actually seeing. “He did all sorts of shit during his program because he didn’t want to listen to his coach.”

At least he was reasonably sure that Yuuri wasn’t following the conversation between them; his Russian was only barely there and with him forgetting about sentences he had said not even two minutes prior, there wasn’t much of a hope that he understood fast-paced, angry Russian, either. 

“Hmph, that was different-- every skater tests his coach if he thinks that he can do better,” Yakov gave him a direct, accusatory stare. Yuri scowled and elbowed Mila when she started laughing again at the unsubtle dig at him. “This is something that pushes the boundaries of well-being.” His expression was contemplative. “How often was he sick, do you think--and said ‘no, it is only my anxiety?’” 

“Probably far too often,” came a cheerful voice and everyone turned to see Viktor striding in, cheeks red from the cold and more than a little out of breath. “How’s my stubborn ray of sunshine doing?” 

“Being stupid,” Yuri huffed, standing up abruptly now that VIktor was here. “Take him home and make sure that you stuff him full of medicine and make sure he rests.” His ears were red with the force of trying to hold back his actual worry. “Tie him to the bed if you have to.”

Mila started laughing again and Yuri turned a deeper shade of red and dove at her, but she dodged out of the way easily, tears in her eyes. Viktor rescued Yuuri from the fray and held the younger man against his side.

“Are we going to skate now, Viktor?” Yuuri asked, eyes wide. “They said I was sick but I was only spinning and I wanted to show you my new routine… just for us--” he gave him a wide, happy smile and Viktor laughed a little and ruffled his hair.

“When you’re feeling better, Солнышко моё,” Viktor reassured him. “I want to see you spinning when your head is not spinning as well.” He gently guided Yuuri toward the entrance. “Yakov, I’m sorry I can’t skate today, but…”

“But you have to make sure that Yuuri does not get more sick and damage things that will delay his skating even more,” Yakov waved him off. “I am just glad you were here, Vitya-- he is more reckless than you ever were.”

“I can see that,” Viktor pushed his hair back and looked down at Yuuri, who had finally given up talks of skating to practically fall asleep against Viktor’s side. “I’ll make sure he’s back as soon as he can safely.”

“Don’t rush,” Yuri muttered, arms crossed against his chest tightly and face turned away. “It’ll be nice not having you two lovebirds being disgusting on the ice for once while the rest of us are trying to skate. Do that sort of crap at home where we can’t see you being sappy.”

VIktor’s smile was broad and amused at the underlying concern in Yuri’s voice and what he didn’t say. “Yes, yes-- we can’t rush any sort of healing-- it might take a few days. I’ll make sure to tell Yuuri how concerned you were about him, though,” he finished up.

“Don’t you dare!” Yuri spun around and glared up at him. “Idiot katsudon--” 

“Is your friend and you can’t hide forever that you think of him that way,” Mila laughed and ruffled his hair. “It’s not such a bad thing, Imagine how much better you will both skate when you’re not plotting to stab him or he’s not running from you.”

“I can skate just fine no matter what,” Yuri huffed, but he eyed the dozing Yuuri out of the corner of his eye. “But it’s not as much fun to compete if he’s falling on his ass.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Viktor smiled and Yuri gave a quick nod.

“I’ll bring by his stuff later,” Yuri said, still not looking at them. “We took off his skates and packed everything away, but you’re going to have your hands full. After practice.” He paused and is if to reassure them he wasn’t turning entirely soft. “Idiot won’t need it for a few days, anyway.”

“You’re too kind, Yura,” Viktor turned back away after a couple of quick words of reassurance and thanks for them taking care of Yuuri. “The most we’ll be doing is going to the doctor.” 

“Well, go on then and stop hanging around here,” Yuri waved his hand at him, going back to the edge of the rink, his part of the conversation clearly finished. “ _ Some _ of us have competitions to train for.” It was a cheap shot, but it was all he had when he was biting back words of ‘tell me how he’s doing’ and ‘make sure you take care of him.’ 

Viktor just pouted and with one last wave, pulled Yuuri out the door. Practice was going to have to wait for another day. 


End file.
